The Write Pressure
The challenge: Write a book in 72 hours. That's the gauntlet thrown down by the folks at the International 3-Day Novel Contest. Think you can do it? Each year, more than 300 people think they can. In 2005, Jan Underwood, a local writer, won. Over Labor Day weekend, she holed up with sweeTarts and her computer and wrote "Day Shift Werewolf".
Color me green. I can't deny it; the jealousy bug has bit and bit hard.
I struggle with a mere few hundred words, seeking perfection as if it exists, looking for just the write words to express a feeling or paint a visual picture. I seek to "show not tell", the hallmark of good writers. Sometimes I come close. At other times...well, let's just say, thank goodness for the delete button.
I know I am too hard on myself and I am trying to quell my inner critic. Funny how my IC's voice is remarkably like one of my writing instructors, a well-known writer in our field. She's alternately snubbed and warmly greeted me (if she's not a Gemini, she should be). I haven't figured out why she treats me this way but I've learned to not take it personally; I've seen her do it, inexplicably, to countless others. I'm not sure why it's her voice I hear. I have no desire to emulate her or her writing. Far from it. It's not sour grapes. I just don't like her writing style nor do I think she's a good writer.
So, when I hear my IC's voice pop into my head, belittling my efforts, I practice the New York City echo. What? You don't know what that is?
"Hellooooo!"
"Shut the f--- up!"
Aaaaahhhhh, that's better. Without my nagging IC, my words begin to flow again.
Maybe writing a novel in 3 days - or just a short story - will be within my reach someday.
Color me green. I can't deny it; the jealousy bug has bit and bit hard.
I struggle with a mere few hundred words, seeking perfection as if it exists, looking for just the write words to express a feeling or paint a visual picture. I seek to "show not tell", the hallmark of good writers. Sometimes I come close. At other times...well, let's just say, thank goodness for the delete button.
I know I am too hard on myself and I am trying to quell my inner critic. Funny how my IC's voice is remarkably like one of my writing instructors, a well-known writer in our field. She's alternately snubbed and warmly greeted me (if she's not a Gemini, she should be). I haven't figured out why she treats me this way but I've learned to not take it personally; I've seen her do it, inexplicably, to countless others. I'm not sure why it's her voice I hear. I have no desire to emulate her or her writing. Far from it. It's not sour grapes. I just don't like her writing style nor do I think she's a good writer.
So, when I hear my IC's voice pop into my head, belittling my efforts, I practice the New York City echo. What? You don't know what that is?
"Hellooooo!"
"Shut the f--- up!"
Aaaaahhhhh, that's better. Without my nagging IC, my words begin to flow again.
Maybe writing a novel in 3 days - or just a short story - will be within my reach someday.
posted by bemused at 10:43 AM
1 Comments:
Oh yes the inner critic! I find the best way to shut mine up is keep writing, tell myself I can edit later, just write what comes out. Sit down and time a 10 minute writing time, then a 20 minute. Nancy Goldberg has some great exercises to shut the you know what up.
If my inner critic's been a good girl, then she gets to rip through every thing in the rewrite. She's happy, I'm happy.
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